I hope you enjoy this (edited) chapter! I know this one and the previous have been on the shorter side, but the next chapter will be longer.
As always, I only own my OC.
The first thing I do as I open my eyes is groan, body sore. My vision's blurry, but it's not like there's much to see, anyway. I start to sit up, the floor beneath me sticky. It's a little hard to breathe, the air hot and thin with snow falling down. My first reaction is an "Oh, shit, I blacked out a party" sigh.
It isn't until I blink myself more into awareness that everything starts coming back, rolling through my mind like waves. Driving to Indianapolis with Jonathan, seeing Lonnie, Barb and Nancy, Steve's house, Barb cutting herself. We sat on the diving board, then -
"Veronica! Oh, thank God. C'mon." Barb comes into focus before me, hunched as she pulls me up. My back twinges, having landed on my backpack when we fell.
"Where -"
"We have to go!" She cuts me off, worriedly touching at my head. Her fingers come back red, and I wince at the lingering sting. Crap. "Nancy!" She screams, looking around.
We're in a drained pool, surrounded by slimy, moving vines. And it isn't snow falling, it's ash.
We have to get the hell out of here. "Barb, come on! We ne-need cover!"
"Nancy!"
"Barb, your mouth, cover it!" I cut in, tugging her so she looks down at me. She's slowly slipping into a panic attack, so I do my best to pull her away. Something growls behind us, and we both turn to see a dark figure lurking in the corner of the pool. Fear momentarily freezes me as the creature rises up to its full height, face opening up like a flower as it roars.
This is the thing that took us. Something tells me it wasn't to make new friends.
Barb screams loudly, nearly tripping until I right her and drag my friend to the other side of the pool, the monster chasing us. "Climb, move!" I cry out, urging her towards the ladder. "Barb!" I scream, and she nods as I throw my backpack up over the ledge of the pool.
With her occupying the ladder, I climb up the vines. They slither around, leaving trails of snail-like slime all over my hands and jacket. Something grips my ankle and I shout in pain, kicking out. When it releases me I hurry up even faster than before, practically rolling onto the slimy concrete.
"Veronica!" Barb screams, and I turn over to see her almost to the top of the ladder, some vines having wrapped around her wrists.
No. No, no, no.
I throw myself at her, ripping at the vines until they loosen. She picks up her pace, until something suddenly drags her down. "Barb, take my hands!" I shout, shooting my body forward so it's between the metal bars of the pool ladder.
"Smarties!" She shouts, tears falling down her face as she swings a hand up to grab onto mine. My own cheeks are wet, my eyes puffy.
"Your other one! Take it! I have you!" I shout again, and our fingers become entangled, tighter than the vines I just climbed up. She thrashes and screams in agony. "Barb!"
"Go! Smarties, go!"
"No, I'm not leaving you!" I yell back, holding on tighter as I sit up and try to scoot back, one foot on each of the metal bars to stabilize myself.
She shakes her head, face twisted in pain. "Veronica, you have to let me go."
"No, come on, please! Kick! Kick it hard! No, don't -"
Barb cries, her fingers finally slipping from my grasp. I scramble forward to reach her, sobbing. "No, NO!" The world closes in on me, tighter as the monster disappears into the dark, empty pool, Barbara with him. Something else growls, though, in the distance. But I don't care. I need to get to Barb. I have to get to Barb.
The growling gets closer, and I roll over just in time to see this wolf-like creature jumping over me, snarling in warning.
And my adrenaline snaps back in. The age old "fight or flight" dilemma takes over and I roll to my backpack, snatching it up as the demented dog leaps towards it. It snuffs and snarls at me, head opening like the other monster.
With a sharp turn I run into the woods, staggering as I go and covering my mouth and nose with my arm.
The growls follow me, and I force myself to continue running away. It feels like I'm stepping on a bunch of snakes, and my ankles are constantly getting tangled up or catching onto a knot. I can barely see where I'm going, even with the lit fog surrounding me.
"Please let this be a bad dream. Please let this be a bad dream." I pray out loud as I run through the woods I thought I knew, but when I pinch my skin nothing happens.
The growls fade the deeper into the woods I get, and I briefly stop to rub some of the slime over me, remembering dad's lessons in masking my scent. It doesn't matter to me if the goo is toxic, I'll be dead either way if the creatures find me, and Barb's missing. I need to find her, I need to save her and get us home.
Something drips down the side of my face and I wince, reaching up to wipe it away. Oh, I'm bleeding. Great.
"Okay, kid. Let's say you go camping alone. You get lost on the way to the site you know, and end up in a completely different location. What do you do?" My dad asks.
"Don't panic." I tell him, twelve-year old me tugging a pigtail nervously.
He smiles, proud. "Good, good. Okay. Next?"
"Try… try to retrace your steps."
"Yeah. And if you can't?"
"Stay put?"
He shakes his head. "Only if you've told someone where you're going. Let's say you don't. What do you do?"
"Stop… think… observe. Plan?"
"Exactly. Good." He smiles and pats my shoulder. But then the smile falls, a serious look back on his face. "Let's say you're injured. What do you do?"
"First aid, as soon as you can." I bite my lip. "Why do I need to know this, dad? You're always going to be with me."
"Always." He promises, one last lie before the truth comes out. "But you never know what's going to happen, Veronica. So I need you to be prepared for anything. What else do you have to do?"
I blink and look around, mind no longer focusing on the bright sunny day my dad and I spent in the woods, a week before mom and I caught his ass.
Find shelter. I look around, and it's as though he's next to me, not miles and a whole world away. Someplace to stay warm and dry. Get water, and purify it. Make a fire. Ration your food. Be on the alert. I can remain vigilant, but the rest? I don't even know where I am. There are only two things I'm sure about as I creep through the woods. One, this place looks like my home, but it's not. And two, this isn't a dream, this is real. I'm on my own, Barb was taken, and I have to find her, but how?
I need to get out of here and get help.
No, I have to save her.
The only way I can do any of that is if I survive whatever the hell those things are. First, my wound. I need to clean my wound.
I keep on moving, walking through vine-covered trees until I reach a dried-up stream. I sit at the base of the largest trunk, pulling off my dirty, ripped varsity jacket as well as the flannel top covering my tee. I dig into my backpack, finding my compact foundation, thanking God and anyone who'll listen that I had packed for a sleepover that never happened.
The makeup is broken and the mirror's a little cracked, but I'm able to assess the cut on my head. I don't think it's deep, but it's nearly impossible to tell with all the blood caking over it. Holding up my torn but mostly clean button-down, I start to rip off the sleeves. Balling one up, I lick it and carefully dab until the wound is mostly clear of blood. It's shallow enough that I'm less concerned, and I rummage through my backpack for anything that'll help. I don't have a First Aid kit, but I do have two crumpled Band-Aids. It takes a lot of pressure to stick them on, and I'm left with the dilemma of how to deal with the blood-soaked sleeve. Something will smell it, and then they'll be able to track me. Or maybe they already can? How long had Barb and I been here before we woke up?
Left with a sleeveless flannel shirt, I fold it over like a bandana and wrap it around my nose and mouth, trying my hardest to stop myself from inhaling more ash. I tie it under my messy ponytail, wincing when it tangles with a few wayward curls.
The unused sleeve goes back in my backpack, as well the flashcards in my pocket. I put one candy bar on my lap, then shove the other two 3 Musketeers bars into my bag, closing it. Shivering in my tee, I slide on my varsity jacket, fingering the holes. What used to be white and green fabric is now coated in black sludge, the sight of it more nauseating than blood.
Come on, keep moving.
Tucking the lone candy bar into the back pocket of my jeans, I start to stand, bracing myself on the cold bark of the tree. Something slithers over my hand and I watch in horror as a vine starts to wrap around my left wrist, getting tighter. More creep up, attempting to grab the right. A few even wiggle out, reaching towards me with want.
I won't let them take me. I have someone I need to save.
With a pained yelp tug back, uncaring about the rawness on my wrist as I run as fast as I can away from whatever the hell was trying to grab me.
Only the vines are more alive now, snaking up on my legs as I run and tug, pulling me onto the ground. I resort to crawling, knees lifting rapidly as I try to drag myself away. Eventually I reach an area of the thick forest that looks charred. Dead. No vines grow here, and they slither away as if afraid.
I shakily stand, fumbling over to the large rock. I press my back against the cool stone and fold over to catch my breath, hands on my knees. The events of the night catch up to me, my brain deciding it's time to succumb to the anxiety that's been inflating inside me ever since I woke up in the pool. The balloon pops and panic bursts out, the attack consuming me. I sob, covering my eyes with goo-covered hands, air hiccuping out of me.
Whatever lives here, those creatures - they don't seem to hear me. Or care. I mean, they should be swarming me, right? I'm on their turf, I'm the one that got away. They should be coming after me.
Why the hell am I complaining about being safe?
My chest gets even tighter than before, and I feel everything narrowing, my vision getting dark on the edges. Vaguely, I can feel my whole body shaking. I haven't had a panic attack like this in years. I've had minor ones, but nothing a few deep breaths and therapy couldn't take care of.
This one takes the cake. Nothing I'm doing is working. I try to think of a happy memory, but all my mind can focus on is the fact I'm stuck down here.
"Fuck!" I sob, and my heart feels like it's about to leave my body. My mom's going to lose a daughter, my brother is going to lose a sister. Jonathan is going to lose a best friend. I'm leaving them. And if I die here, then I've really left them.
Another shiver goes up my spine and my vision gets more hazy. Blacker. My breathing is completely erratic, and I can actually hear the blood pumping through my veins. "Happy thoughts." I mutter. "H-happy. Thoughts." I shift back and forth, covering my ears now to block out any sound.
Think. Come one, please, please. Think.
"Leia." A familiar voice greets. I straighten, back twinging with the sharp movement. I look around, but no one's there. "Leia." The voice repeats, closer. "Leia! Wait!" I blink and something tells me to look down. I stare down as a little boy with curly hair waddles up to me. He's dressed in a fuzzy bear costume, a strap running diagonally from his chest to his hip, completely oblivious to the world around him. "You promised!"
I crouch down to look directly at the boy, but his face is all blurry. Unfocused. I take his pawed hands in mine. "What did I promise?" I ask, completely confused. "How did you get here?"
"You said you'd stay with me! No friends, just me! You promised." The little boy with the blurry hair stomps his foot, ignoring my last question in favor of my first. "You lied."
"I didn't lie. I didn't lie!"
"Then why are you leaving?"
"I'm not! I don't understand! What are you doing here?"
"Jonathan isn't your brother! I am! You said you'd stay with me!"
I gasp. "Dustin?"
The boy's face becomes clearer, leaving me as breathless as the panic attack. I'm talking to my little brother. Well, a six-year-old version of my brother. A New Hope had come out that May. I was finally allowed to take Dustin Trick-or-Treating on my own, and the nerd was obsessed with Star Wars. He'd even started calling me Leia, playing with my middle name, "Leigh." We worked together, my mom and I, to make the perfect little Chewbacca costume for him. And with me dressed in a white long-sleeved dress and the twin donut buns, we were the Princess and the Walking Carpet.
"Don't go to the party!" Dustin begs, lisp even worse as his teeth were barely there those days.
"What party?" I bite my lip, thinking back to Halloween of '77. I was 10. Jonathan and I had been invited over to Ally Stuart's house. I remember because I forced Jonathan to get a Luke costume. He just didn't seem the "Han Solo" type. He still isn't.
I had also promised Dustin I would stay with him all night. He threw a fit when I'd announced I was leaving after dropping him off at home. His bucket was filled to the brim with candy, and I remember half of it falling out when he threw it down and cried.
I can see the tears now, again, and soon enough I'm remembering a promise I made that night. One I've done my best to keep. So I nod and the vision before me, licking my lips beneath my flannel mask. "I love you, Dustin. You are my little brother. I carry you right here, just like you carry me. And I won't ever leave you. I promise."
My hallucination snaps away, and I'm once more left alone. Dazedly I think out loud, "If only Hawkins High could see me now. Their Ice Queen - the one they parted the halls for - afraid. Vulnerable."
I slide back down onto the squishy soil, hand slipping into my back pocket to pull out the nougat before I crush my limited rations. My stomach grumbles and I pat it, wiping my hands on my jacket before tearing the packaging open.
"Thanks, Dustin." I whisper, then take one bite. I chew it nice and slow, and even though my body's screaming at me to finish it, I stop myself. Then I fold the wrapper down and move into a squat, tucking the bar back into my pocket. With an aching moan I rise once more, brain working double-time to come up with a plan.
Dustin. My mom. My friends. The little girl we found. Will. Barb.
I have people counting on me, and I can't let them down.
First, I have to find Barb. I have to. Maybe… Maybe she was dragged away from here? Not towards the woods, but through a tunnel, or something? Like, the equivalent of a sewer? We were in a pool, after all. What if there are more familiar structures? Predators always have lairs. Parallel universes or wherever the hell I am would follow that rule, right? I take in a deep breath, then breathe out.
It's time for me to be the Huntress. For however long I can be.
I groan, climbing up another rock with help from the vines. I guess I smell bad even to whatever dragged my ass here, because nothing's attacked me in hours. Days? It's hard to tell, really. Because the sun doesn't rise or set here, even when my eyes close for however long they can. I'd stupidly left my medication at, so there's nothing keeping my anxiety and depression from peaking. Then again that could be because I'm in an alternate dimension. I'm not in Hawkins anymore, even if the woods seem familiar. I spend too much of my time running and hiding from monsters. A couple had come close to getting me, only I know how to navigate a forest, even if it's stranger than most. I climb trees, I work against the vines. But in the end, it's no use, and I'm stuck with the knowledge that I failed her.
My hunt for Barb had gone slow. Too slow. I'd been what felt like everywhere. I retraced my steps and found myself back at the Pool. Let me tell you I wasn't prepared for the horrifying realization that Barb and I were taken to some twisted version of the Harrington House. So I walked deeper, and found myself in Hawkins. With every step I took, the fear built in my veins, until I came to this horrible conclusion that I'm too late. I lost her. And if I survive, I'd have to tell her parents that I failed to keep their daughter safe.
I couldn't get further than what must have been the entrance of Loch Nora when monsters began to growl. I had to turn around, run back to the woods to hide. And in that time, I came to another realization. What if Will was here, too? What if he was taken? What if more people were taken? So I started up another search, this time in the woods. The vines slowed me down, as did the sounds of snarling, drooling monsters eager to sink their teeth into my flesh and tear me apart.
Groaning back to the present, I find myself lying down on top of the boulder, staring at the starless, foggy sky. My backpack's on my stomach, my hands holding it like it's a stuffed animal.
I can just lay here. Finish my candy. Wait to just die from exhaustion, dehydration. I know I'm dehydrated. I couldn't find any water, and even if I had I couldn't clean it. I'd been okay, a person can go without water for three days, but I know it's been longer. My lips are cracked, my skin feels too tight, and I've stopped sweating even though I'm constantly moving. I've gone through both my old outfit and the clothes I'd packed for the sleepover, both covered in slime and white flecks. And don't even get me started on going to the bathroom. I've had plenty of experience with that when it comes to camping in my world, but here? Well, I'd be lying if I said I'm not a little happy my need to relieve myself has faded with every lingering moment here.
I'm running on hope, but my battery is dying and I don't think I'll get a recharge. A human can only go a week without water, longer without food. I can already feel myself getting close to death's door. It's a scary feeling, knowing you're going to die and that no one will find you. Maybe a monster will come by and eat you, ignoring the smell in favor of a meal.
I reach into my pocket, only to feel the wrapper. No more nougat. The last gift I ever got, the last physical reminder of my little brother, and it's gone.
I gently move out of my jacket, having put it on… whenever ago. A thought crosses my mind and I reach into my bag to pull out Nancy's index cards. I could just eat that, right? It's not like I'm going to live, anyway.
My mom and brother are going to be crushed. Do they even think I'm missing, though? Do they just assume I've decided to devote all my time to helping the Byers family? Was I wrong? Is Will not here? Is he at home, safe and sound with Joyce and Jonathan?
I have so many questions, and no one to answer them.
Then my mind drifts further down the rabbit hole. Is Nancy happy? Is Steve making sure she's smiling? Is he taking care of her, like I wish he would take care of me? I bet his friends would love seeing me like this, finally dethroned. Powerless. I can only imagine him caring about whether or not I'm okay. I don't actually believe he is. The only time he pays attention to me is when we're arguing. It's why I would keep it going - you know, the fights. I wanted to keep him entertained, because even if it was only a handful of minutes during the day, he'd noticed me.
"King Steve and the Ice Queen." Now that could have been a good story. If only things were different.
I curl up into a ball and close my eyes, uncaring of vines that could squeeze me. I don't care anymore, and I don't care that I don't care. It feels good, letting go of all my feelings. My stupid, insignificant feelings. All I know is I let them win, over and over again. I pushed people away and missed out on so much. I'm going to die how I told myself I wanted to live - alone.
And you know what? That doesn't matter. Because my death won't make people stop living. They'll move on, even mom and my brother. They'll miss me, but eventually they'll let go. I know that should make me sad, but it's taking so much energy just to feel something right now.
I just want it all to be over. I want it all to end. I just want to leave.
I start to feel my breaths evening out, the world gets even more quiet. I can go, now. I can rest.
That's when I hear it, though. The thing that kicks me swiftly in the ass, jolting me out of depression and distracting me with confusion. An all-too familiar voice, sounding miles away but still so close. "Nancy! Nancy, where are you?"
"Jonathan! Jonathan!" A shrill scream responds, closer. So close.
"N-na." My voice cracks from disuse. "Na...na. Jo. Nath. Nan. Jona." I cough and sit up, slowly, energy wavering. I cough, clear my throat, anything to get it working again. "Nan. Cy. Jo. Athan. Nancy! Jonathan!" I finally scream, voice hoarse but suddenly strong. I scramble to the edge of the boulder only to drop and land on the vines, my right side taking the weight as my head is cushioned by my soiled backpack.
Something is snarling nearby, something else running, until a shadow looms over me, and my head rolls up, accepting my fate. But it's not a flower-headed beast standing over me, ready to attack.
It's Nancy.